


A Thousand Years

by ijustwritehungergames



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustwritehungergames/pseuds/ijustwritehungergames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern A/U. Injured Soldier Peeta Mellark Returns 'Home' From War Missing A Leg And A Part Of Himself He Fears He Will Never Get Back. Maybe He Could Find Himself If Home Wasn't Comparable To The Battlefield He Just Left. Maybe A Girl From His Past Can Help Put The Pieces Back Together, Or Maybe She Will Just Destroy Him Completely. Violence, sexual situations, Mature Content. REMASTERED!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've already posted this story over on ff so many of you may have seen it there. When I first started posting it there I decided I wouldn't post it here untill it had been beta ed, ao3 seems to demand a higher quality fic than ff in my opinion. So I am very pleased to announce that fyrebirdrises has graciously offered to fix my numerous errors, so it is all thanks to her that ATY is now making an appearance here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hunger Games and all related characters belong to Suzanne Collins. I own nothing.

Legs. Of all the welcome home surprises my idiot brothers could have done they decided a strip club called legs was appropriate. It wouldn't be so bad if I did in fact have legs, which I do not. I have 1 leg and 1 piece of plastic coated titanium.  
   
"Dude!" My brother Pacer's voice snaps me back to reality from my self-loathing. "How are you in a room full of hot half naked chicks and still all mopey. Shit, I'd think you'd be happy your home at least."  
   
"Pacer... You brought me to fucking place called legs..." I seethe. "Just how happy can you expect a one legged man to be here?"  
   
Pacer visibly pales, "Shit man, I'm sorry I just wanted to show you a good time. It was either here or Cray's Cabaret, last time I went in there I swear I saw grandma on stage." Pacer shivers from the memory and the mental image makes me want to vomit. "Don't know about you Peeta my man but I don't order from the seniors menu." 

I muster up a grin for him as the waitress begins distributing drinks among our rather large group. "I am happy to be home Pacer, and I appreciate the warm welcome, I guess it's just gonna take some time getting use to this life again." 

Pacer gives me a sad smile. "You'll get there Peeta" he says as the waitress sets down his drink. Up until now I hadn't paid much attention to her.  
   
"Peeta?" The woman says "Peeta Mellark?" At this I look up into the same beautiful silver eyes I've been trying to forget for almost two years now.  
   
"Katniss." I breathe out, "H-H-How are you?" I manage stuttering like the lovesick puppy I am. I disgust myself.  
   
She grins "I'm alright. Welcome home, I heard you were coming back! Is this your welcome home party?" At this I'm shocked. I've known this girl my entire life and have never heard her speak this much to me willingly, well, except for that day. I get excited for a minute thinking maybe she has noticed me; maybe she was upset when I left and is genuinely happy I'm back. Then I think about graduation the day I was finally going to tell her I love her, and how happy she looked when he kissed her and swung her around. Nope this isn't about me, this is her job, to be friendly and make tips.  
   
"Uhm yeah, actually. I didn't expect to see you here." I tell her. 

She responds with a sad smile and "Yeah, you and me both."  
   
"Well thanks for the drink." I say effectively dismissing her. For a moment I think I see something flash in her eyes. Rejection? Regret? Disappointment? I can't be sure because it's gone in a heartbeat, replaced by the fake carefree smile as she moves on to the other patrons.  
   
By the time she makes her rounds and is back to check on our group I've had a good 30 minutes of hating myself even more for being so short with her. After all, it isn't fair to be a dick to her for loving Gale, I know better than anyone you can't help who you love. So when she brings my drink this time I take the initiative with small talk asking after her family and what's new around town. This time when she walks away I don't feel like such a jerk. That is, until I feel the weight of a body over mine.  
   
A pretty woman with short brown hair and an intense brown state looks seductively at me with a very mischievous grin. "Hey there blue eyes, enjoying the show?" She enquires moving her scantily clad body skillfully over mine. I consider denying the lap dance but I'm sure that'll just get Pacer all sentimental again. So instead I decide to engage this woman in conversation, I honestly have no interest in getting a boner in the middle of this club.  
   
"Oh yeah, nothing better than getting together with guys to go get sexually frustrated." I tell her, sliding my eyes to the side where my brothers sit with a small grin.  
   
Her lips curve up a little on one side. "What's wrong with a little frustration?" She purrs, slowly grinding against me as she drawls out the last word. That is about all I can handle, I need to get this woman off me before I get really uncomfortable.  
   
"What's your name?" I inquire. 

I guess this isn't a common question as she stalls her movements momentarily. "It's Joey, how 'bout you hot stuff?"  
   
"Peeta" I tell her.

"Like the bread?" she asks. Always the same fucking response. 

"No, but close enough" I respond. "Listen Joey, How would you like to make an easy $50?" 

She stills completely and quirks an eyebrow. "Wow bread boy I didn't take you for that type, especially since I can't even get a twitch from you, no offence but I thought you were gay. I mean, I'm smoking hot and topless." She says with an easy grin. "But I'm afraid I'm not a whore, I just move like one." She adds, continuing her dance. 

"You are hot, I'll give you that, and I'm not gay, but I wasn't asking for that." I tell her, then discretely point toward my eldest brother Phoenix, "See that guy? You take this show over there and I'll pay you $50" 

She nods and replies "Cash first." 

She gets off me and I retrieve my wallet and fork over the money. I didn't have much to do with my paychecks in Iraq so it's accumulated to a comfortable amount. Now that I'm home I'll still get some benefits from the military for my leg, but a lot less than my pay was so it will come in handy having a bit of a financial cushion. I need to find my own place; very soon, I cannot handle living with my mother again. I make that my mission for the following day. I begin listing all the furnishings I'll need in my head when I'm broken from my thoughts by the arrival of another beer.  
   
"So are you home for good now?" Katniss asks tentatively and I nod. "Where are you staying?" she ventures.  
   
"With my folks till I find something else, I'm going to start looking tomorrow."  She bites her lip as though she's trying to prevent the words from coming out.  
   
"My neighbor is looking for a roommate, I could give him your number if you want."  
Wow living next door to Katniss Everdeen....tempting. Living next door to Katniss and Gale....not so much. My face must've betrayed my disinterest of listening to them moan over each other every night, she must have thought it was the idea of a roommate that caused my discomfort because she smiled and said, "I know roommates usually suck, but Finnick isn't too bad, he keeps the place clean and the parties to the weekends."  
   
"Finnick Odair?" I ask and she nods  
   
"You were in varsity football with him in 10th, right?" she asks. 

I grin, Finnick is a wild man, I went to more parties courtesy of Finn my sophomore year than the rest of my high school years combined. We're talking outrageous parties, as long as Finnick kept up with school his parents lavished him in whatever he wanted. It was easier than to actually set aside time from their posh lives. Having a large stature got me on varsity quick, but I think it really was Phoenix and Pacers' reputations as football gods that really cemented my spot.  
   
"Yeah I was, where is the house? I'd kinda like to stick close to Dads Cafe; I'm going back to work there after I get settled."  
   
"It's about a 15 minute walk, if you have a car it's only about 5." She responds while clearing the empty bottles from our table.  
   
"Doesn't sound too terrible, Finnick was always...entertaining. Why not, can't hurt to look right?" I jot my number down on a cocktail napkin and hand to her, our fingers brush and she stills, our fingers still touching then says in teasing voice, "You know you never made good on that dinner invitation."  
She must see my confusion, she blushes slightly continuing, "Uhm, in 8th grade you asked me to dinner but I couldn't date."  
   
I remember now, she had told me her fathers rule 'can't date till you graduate' so I told her that I would take her out to the best dinner ever once we graduated to make up for all the dates she missed. She had given me the most radiant smile I'd ever seen, kissed me on the cheek and ran off. But of course fucking Gale Hawthorne got her first.  
"Oh yeah, I do owe you the worlds best date don't I?"  
She smiles shyly and shrugs her left shoulder, "Dinner would be fine." 

Is she hitting on me?  
"How would Hawthorne feel about me taking you out?" 

With that loaded question her easy smile drops and I can see her jaw tense as she grinds her teeth. "It's none of his fucking business." She seethes through her teeth, almost like the thought of him makes her want to spontaneously combust."If you'll excuse me I've got a few tables to check on. I'll have Finn call you." And with that she walks away.  
   
I decide I have done enough damage for the evening and stayed long enough to use jet lag as an excuse. I roll up a twenty dollar bill just loose enough so I can stick it in the neck of my empty bottle without it falling all the way through and make my way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to fyrebirdrises for helping me with all my mistakes!

I wake to the horrific sound of my mothers shrill voice the following morning. "Peeta! Wake up, you won't be sleeping all fucking day here boy! Get your ass up and go help your father open the cafe." 

I groan and roll over adjusting to the dull ache of my un-leg. Picking up my phone I see it's 5:45. Well, at least she let me sleep in, I've gotten up at 4:30 almost every morning for as long as I can remember, so an extra hour is unbelievable. 

I shower, dress and make my way to Mellark Cafe with only minimal additional shit from Mother. Just before I stepped out I saw her take her nice little handful of pills and wander down the hall towards her room, a nice little assortment of pain killers, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, muscle relaxers and a whole slew of others. She has more doctors than an entire generation of hypochondriacs, they give her whatever she wants as long as she pays the premium.

I make it to the Cafe by 6:30 and the morning rush is in full swing, the smell of rich coffees and pastries filling my nose and bringing a million memories in a mere moment. I see my father has hired a woman about my age with piercing green eyes and flowing dark hair. I make my way to the employees only area, she must notice my 'Mellark's Cafe' shirt as she sends me a shy smile with no hassle as I pass her.

My Father, Uncle Chaff and another man I don't recognize are already hard at work creating artful pastries, bagels, croissants and other breakfast items when I walk in. Dad and Chaff look up and greet me as I enter while the other man continues on as if I don't exist. I grab an apron as my Dad heads over to wash his hands, "Come here son I'd like you to meet Pollux, he's been giving us a hand around here since you've been, well, since you've been away." He finishes with a sad smile, it's no secret he didn't want me to join the military, but it's not like he provided a very functional environment for me to want to stay in either. Granted he never abused us, but he never did anything to protect us either. 

I walk over to Pollux and nod my head in greeting (working with your hands and food isn't very conducive to shaking hands, after all) "Hey man, nice to meet you, I'm Peeta" I say.

Instead of returning the sentiment he turns to my father who slowly proceeds to start signing. I can pick out the letters of my name, having taken a semester of American sign language in high school, but that's about all I can get out of it. He in turn smiles and signs back to Dad, who then translates to me; "He says welcome home Peeta, and thank you for your service." 

I cringe inwardly but try to paste on a grateful smile, it's the one thing I'm sure I'll never get used to, being thanked for giving my leg up. I mean, it's not like I was able to do much good in the short time I was abroad. I didn't save any lives, only took them. More than I want to count. I honestly just want to forget.

After that awkward exchange dad puts me to work frosting cupcakes. I'm grateful, it's simple work that my hands will never forget. I pop in my ear-buds and set my iPhone to one of my random playlists, soon all the cupcakes are frosted and ready for the afternoon rush. With that done there isn't much else for me to do, the cafe has always pretty much been a 4 man operation, 1 out front and 3 in the back. It used to be perfect when Mother still handled the customers, Dad and 2 of us boys back here, one of us with a day off. When Phoenix graduated and left Pacer and I were left with no days off. Then when Pacer graduated and did the same he hired Uncle Chaff. I suppose when I left he had to hire Pollux, I'm not sure when Mother gave up and he hired the pretty girl out front, but it's been a long time coming. Mother was always very short with the customers, I'm sure if it weren't for Dad's skill with pastries we never would have had a repeat customer.

With nothing else to do and the morning rush gone I decide to acquaint myself with the pretty brunette out front, she's a shy woman who has just turned 21 she says. Her name is Annie and Dad hired her about a year ago when she was forced to drop out of college after her parents were killed in front of her during a home invasion, leaving her the sole provider for her 6 year old sister. She doesn't say anything else after that, seemingly lost in her own little world, I don't mind though it's kinda nice to have someone just as fucked up as me to just be quiet with. So thats what we do the next hour, just sit quietly lost in our own thoughts. Mine of mutilated bodies of adults and children alike, hers of her dead parents, maybe we wouldn't have been voted cutest couple in high school but we might just be able to lose ourselves for awhile in each other. Obviously now isn't the time to be entertaining these thoughts, but hey I'm single and lonely, what can I say.

When Dad comes out and sees us he asks if I'd be alright handling the customers the rest of the day, I'm not to keen on the idea but I agree anyway, anything is better than spending the rest of the day with Mother dearest. He sends Annie home and I'm left to deal with all the well wishers and welcome homers, I spend the rest of the afternoon blocking my thoughts as much as possible serving the customers their lunch orders. As I'm cleaning up the dine in area my phone rings. I don't recognize the number on the screen but answer anyway, hoping for a wrong number or salesman I can release some verbal rage upon. It's not that I'm a violent or mean person, but something did snap in me overseas, I find my thoughts more consumed by anger than I'd like. Maybe it's a genetic thing that popped up late in life, Mother's anger DNA that is no longer suppressible, maybe it was the war, who knows.

Unfortunately it turns out to be Finnick. It isn’t that I don't like Finnick, I just don't really feel like dealing with his effervescent, constantly jovial attitude right now. I'd much rather scream at a telemarketer. After the standard "welcome home" "thanks for writing asshole" standard crap he invites me to come check out the room for rent tomorrow evening, he says it's fully furnished so I won't have to spend much to move in, he'll even waive the deposit. I agree to stop by after work tomorrow, Finnick may not be the ideal roommate for me at this point but neither is my Mother. 

I help close the bakery up and prep for the morning, it's only 7:30 when I get home so I do sit-ups for an hour before I take my prazosin and jump in the shower. Tomorrow is sure to be an interesting day I may as well get some sleep.  Before I can make it from the bathroom to my bedroom Mother is on my ass. Shocking.

"I cooked a delicious meal for you boy aren't you at least going to pretend you're not an ungrateful piece of shit and eat it?" She says through clenched teeth. Sometimes I wonder why a woman so vile didn't just abort me. I reply with a quiet "Sure" if for no other reason than to avoid conflict and get to bed before my meds make me faint or worse hallucinate. A delicious meal it is not, maybe I am ungrateful but exploded pizza roll mush isn't quite my idea of appetizing, but I've eaten worse so I choke it down before getting up to clear my dishes. Unfortunately Mother has other ideas sticking her foot out to trip me by my un-leg. I go down hard my mush plate and water glass shattering in my hands under the weight of my torso, excellent. "What the fuck is wrong with you shit for brains!" Mother screeches, "Haven't you learned how to walk on that fancy fucking leg yet? I at least thought the military would teach you how to walk right, Jeez I've bred nothing but a pack of fucking idiots. You make me fucking sick." she spits out before stalking out of the room. 

I look at my father while I pick up the pieces of glass and he is just staring into his plate as if it holds the answers. Coward, although I suppose I am no better. Believe it or not my Father used to be my hero, I looked up to him like any other son looks to his Father, but as I got older and he just sat there, he sort of fell off the pedestal I'd held him on for so long. Sometimes I wonder if he was always such a pushover or if protecting his kids is just something he gave up on.

After I pick the shards of glass from my palms and change my filthy shirt I finally succumb to a very deep dark sleep, thankfully with no nightmares. Tonight anyway.


End file.
